Some Nights
by Hountricky
Summary: "I couldn't fight it, so I just tried to fly away.. If only." After a major argument with someone important in her life, 7 is left reeling and unsure of who she is anymore. Alone in the wastelands, she lives a vicious cycle of sorrow and anger, until an unexpected creature rescues her and teachers her how to heal. AU and 7-centric. T for minor gore.
1. Prologue

A/N: Hey! Been a while, hasn't it? Well, let's just say I lost motivation to write for a while there, and the main inspiration for my stories kind of died off. But from it THIS was born, after a few months of me mulling over my emotions and then I had a thought, out of nowhere. I was talking to one of my best friends when I thought of it, so I'll thank him for that.

I'll be honest, I'm not really as into 9 as I used to be. But 7 is still my favorite character. My life has just changed a bit.. This fic is, in a vague but certain manner, archiving how I felt about a very major situation in my life. 7 goes through something very much like what I did, and symbolically, it is one and the same. I hope by sharing it with others, I gain some closure. And I hope you enjoy it, in all its AU, 7-centric and unrealistic entirety.

This fic is not related to any of my others, although it does branch mention Snow. Howl takes place in an entirely different universe where life has returned. Please keep that in mind when reading. 7x9 is still my favorite pairing and I still want to do stories with it- I just really felt in my heart I needed to write this.

* * *

**Prologue**

You know how when humans become stressed and feel as if they need to just 'get away from it all,' they take those things called vacations? Doesn't matter what the reason for the stress was- work, family, friends… Divorce..

They usually go to a warm, relaxing place, often tropical, or very out of the way. A cabin in the words or a beach house. Maybe even a bare-bones trip to the mountains, to be one with nature, as the saying goes.

Or maybe I'm completely wrong and the book I read was incorrectly labeled and should've been on the fiction shelf. No way to know, the last human vacationed a long time ago if they ever did.

Either way, there's no place like that for us stitchpunks. Or.. Should I say, for me. The world died long ago when I was born. When I get stressed, there's no way for me to vent that.

Not even seven decades after the war has the world grown back. The city could flood and you'd see tiny bits of green appear out of the ground, but they would die soon after. And after a while they just stopped appearing altogether.

Without life, there is no haven. No solace.

Even in sleep, there's no comfort. You spend hours searching for the next place to spend the night, finding a dry spot, and then it's dawn before you get to close your eyes. If you do get sleep, you're only just under and wake up to the tiniest sound.

No amount of target practice, weapon building, scavenging, or running ever chases the thoughts away. What could I have done different? What did I do wrong to deserve it? Would I be happier if it hadn't happened?

And always my thoughts circled like this, twirling and pulsating like a hurricane. I often went to sleep with headaches, or with tears in my eyes, simultaneously enraged and sorrowful. Enraged that I couldn't forget the arguments, the pain, the regrets.. And on the opposite side of the coin, sorrowful that it had happened. After all those years, all those memories, the laughs, the long talks… It all ended. Just like that.

Every single night, before I could sleep, I had to relive it. And it was his voice in my head. Telling me I was selfish. Telling me I was the one at fault. That I was the jerk. In a full blown argument, he was the one dealing the most insults. The roles reversed, I could hear myself now, asking for forgiveness, despite my growing anger and resentment for these accusations..

He never once thought about what he said, how it made me feel, but expected me to think about my words and actions.

I used to spend my nights thinking about the future. Now I just spent each night dwelling on the past.

Absolutely nothing could interrupt this cycle.


	2. Chapter 1 - All Bark

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

The only sound to lull me to sleep was the steady dripping of water hitting the rubble around me. My optics closed, I rolled onto my side, grumbling as I felt mud plaster itself on another part of me. I rolled onto my other side, beginning to thrash in frustration. Why wouldn't the dripping stop?! It was invading my mind, its volume raising to match that of his voice replaying itself and mixing with it to create a symphony of unwelcome white noise.

_Drip. Drip. Drip drip._

Snarling in sudden fury, I leaped to my feet, my weapon clutched in my hand. Angrily I threw it at the nearest thing that had water dripping from it, which was a large wooden chair leaned against a nearby table. My spear sliced one leg clean off, but it didn't help me calm down.

Grumbling to myself, I hefted my bag onto my shoulder, deciding I'd look for somewhere else to sleep tonight. But as I walked out of the rundown apartment building, I realized it was nearly morning. Great. I'd stayed awake the whole night.

The last stars left in the sky flickered as the breeze distorted their reflections in the puddles around me, and I glanced up to see them better.

They shimmered, blinked, and wavered, trying to shine bright enough to be the last one standing.

_"My shining star.."_

Flinching, I gave a little gulp and shook my head. No, I wasn't going to think about that. But still my gaze was drawn to the tiny blinking lights, just on the edge of the lavender horizon, so pure white. Like snow. But fading so fast.

Like Snow.

Not knowing what else to do, I bolted, running as fast as I could in an attempt to get away from my thoughts. In the back of my mind I knew it never worked, but I didn't care. It was my first instinct. I couldn't fight it, so I just tried to fly away.. _If only._

I ran until the sun was above the horizon, shedding its light over the dilapidated city. I took not a single break, convinced still that if I ran for long enough the pain would subside. But when I could run no longer, my lungs feeling as if they'd burst, I collapsed on my knees in defeat.

I guess I was destined to keep reliving my failure. I didn't even know who I was anymore- fighting machines didn't give me the same joy it had before. I'd abandoned all but three of my weapons. All I could do anymore was mourn for what used to be, and shy away from what was.

I spent my time trying to rebuild the past rather than develop the future, whereas I used to always live in the future. Sure I had gone through a lot, but this wasn't me! Was it?

Glancing around, I headed towards a nearby building that was more intact than the rest. Using my spear, I began to climb, using the gaps between the bricks as footholds. Soon, I reached the roof, where I could look out on the entire city. The wind stirred up dust on the streets below me where sun met dirt, and a couple piles of rubble began to shift before suddenly toppling over, the sound carrying through the empty streets for a few seconds.

Soon it was quiet again, and I shifted my weight, looking out towards the horizon. I wondered, briefly, what he was up to. Was he thinking about me right now? Maybe he found someone else. I always wondered if there were more stitchpunks out there. After all, creating only nine of us seemed like a really weak attempt to preserve humanity. And then to only have one female?

My thoughts were interrupted, however, as the wind picked up. Flinching, I glanced behind me, my hearing sensors catching the sound of shifting stone and wood again. This time, however, it was a much more worrying sight that caught my eyes. The building across from mine was wavering on its foundation, where the bricks had crumbled away. The gusts of wind were causing it to become very unstable.

I inched towards the other side of the roof to see if it'd start to fall, and saw a shadow disappear into a tunnel in the rubble piles, its path having come from the falling building. Peculiar. But machines always appeared when rubble fell, attracted by the possibility of finding a crushed and helpless stitchpunk underneath, so perhaps it wasn't too unusual.

My thoughts were interrupted as the building across the street began to shift, and then fall, at an increasing speed, right towards mine. Although mine was in decent condition, that wasn't saying much. I turned to run, but it was too late- the falling building crashed into mine and I let out a scream in panic as I fell towards the ground amidst falling bricks and broken glass. I was crushed underneath everything and swiftly passed out, curled into a ball with my legs protecting my chest and my arms over my head.

* * *

I had no sense of time as I opened my optics, my entire body sore from the weight of hundreds of bricks pinned on top of me.. The last thing I remembered was falling for several stories before an all consuming darkness took me over.  
However, as I glanced around, I realized the bricks were gone. I was laying on a dirty old blanket, laying on the floor of a dimly lit cave, a flashlight hanging above me with several large batteries attached to it on the floor providing the only light. I groaned quietly as I climbed to my feet, unsure of where I was.

Had the whole thing been a dream? But then, if it was, why was I so sore? I took a quick look at myself and was then sure it had been real. My body was torn in multiple places, especially my legs and arms. Several bits of broken glass had lodged themselves just underneath the metal wiring that formed my wrist.

Frowning in displeasure, I tore them free with a tiny grunt of discomfort. Tossing them aside, at the same time turning to inspect my surroundings, I flinched and stumbled back. A human hand, skinny and pale, stuck out from beneath another blanket.

The sight of a dead human was commonplace no matter where you were in the world now, but I guess it just surprised me to be laying so close to where I'd woken up. I saw a gas mask looking device nearby the human, but the end of it was longer and narrower, and it didn't look like it'd fit a human. It was also extremely torn up and didn't seem to be in working order anymore. Another gas mask was laying nearby, closer to the human, but I saw a fatal flaw in its design- likely unnoticeable from a human's perspective, there was a tiny tear near one of the filter intakes.

That explained why the human was no longer alive. Briefly I reflected on why the humans hadn't just worn gas masks to protect themselves against the machine's take over, but then figured maybe they didn't all have one and maybe this was someone really important.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming towards me. Two pairs of footsteps, judging by the vibration and sound. But not at all stitchpunk; they were somewhat muffled and sounded heavy, and also perfectly in sync.

Quickly I ducked behind the human's lifeless corpse, realizing my spear was nowhere in sight. I'd just have to use my agility against it, if it attacked me. I peeked out above the top of the corpse, hoping to see without being seen.

A dark-colored shape stood just on the edge of the shadows, peering at me with rust colored eyes, its head held low. In its mouth it gripped- could it be? My spear!

All of a sudden it bolted straight for me, its tail wagging rapidly. It dropped my spear in a puddle of some sort of clear liquid as it ran, and I ducked as it tried to jump on me, rolling away in the nick of time although causing my tears to rip further. I gave a little yelp of surprised pain and tumbled to the ground, gulping. I was in full panic mode now.

The creature was huge, easily three feet tall, probably more. It had giant paws with claws the size of my spear blade, a deep chest and a tail like a flag pole. I didn't see any visible weapons but its sheer size alone and the teeth glistening with the same clear liquid seemed like enough to drive any smart creature away.

Its large, erect ears lowered as it heard my yelp, and it walked towards me, tongue hanging out and tail still wagging lightly. Its shadow fell over me and I could do nothing but freeze up, hoping it'd lose interest.


End file.
